


Raging, Hot Sex

by SadGirl25



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: M/M, Romancek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5076955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadGirl25/pseuds/SadGirl25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is sore from changing during a full moon. Roman "comforts" (annoys) him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raging, Hot Sex

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was in my head before Season 3 was released. After that ending, I figured that now was as good a time as any to write this little piece. I wrote it today and wanted to share since I know we could all use some fluff.
> 
> Nadia doesn't exist and Olivia still resides at Godfrey Manor.

People talk about changing. They do it all the time. They change houses, cars, clothes, friends, the TV channel. Gypsies know that better than anyone. Most people don't change out of their skin, though. Peter lets out of a soft grunt as his right leg starts to throb. Everything hurts, but the sudden, jabbing pains he can't predict are the worst. He wishes he didn't have to change sometimes. It's all he's ever known, but it comes at a price. It's a unique, flavorful experience that many long for. Just look at Christina Wendall...he wonders if she's still writing books from beyond the grave. Maybe she's run out of material and moved onto fanfiction. 

The sheets feel luxuriously soft, comfortingly warm, and oddly expensive. He supposes that a cold winter in Hemlock Grove after a long night of trampling through the shadows as a wolf will make even the poorest gypsy's bed feel rich. The air smells different, too. It's crisp and clean, with a hint of something strong and alluring. It's not bad, but rather mildly intoxicating. He opens his eyes, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks in a whisper as he tries to adjust to the gentle sunlight coming through the window. He squints in confusion, the ceiling much too high and proper.

"I thought you would never wake, sleeping beauty." Roman's voice and out reaching hand are all it takes to make Peter draw back with brute force, letting out a strangled cry at the searing hot pain that spreads though his back. Had he not been wrapped so securely in blankets he would have toppled off the king size bed and found himself splayed across the cold floor, rather than just a few inches farther away from the upir. 

"Easy, easy..." Roman soothes, but the soft spoken words do the opposite.

"I'm not a fucking dog!" Peter snaps, trying to catch his breath. As the covers slide down, they reveal hints of Roman's bare chest. "Where the Hell is your shirt?"

"Well you sure smelled like a dog last night," Roman quips with unapologetic eyes. "It's somewhere on the floor." His voice lowers into a sultry tone, "We had raging, hot sex last night..." The look of mortified shock on the other boy's face normally would have been priceless but this probably wasn't the greatest time to be, no pun intended, fucking around. "Seriously, Peter, chill...I'm joking, unless you consider me hosing your unconscious, naked ass off in my front lawn a sexual act."

"You hosed me off in your front lawn?" Peter tries to ignore the fact that it feels like his insides have been pulled part and stuffed back inside his body. 

Roman rolls his eyes. "Yes, with water. Look, idiot, I just gave you a bath. The only thing involved were bubbles and a rubber ducky. My shirt got wet so I took it off. Happy now?" 

"Roman, stop fucking with me....owww," Peter grits his teeth, clutching his stomach.

"I don't know...that gypsy ass is just so damn good," Roman teases, but his expression turns to concern when he sees the suffering etched on the other's face. "Where does it hurt?" 

"Everywhere," Peter hates how whiny he sounds right now. "It's like someone is ripping me apart from the inside." 

Roman bites his tongue to keep himself from making a stupid joke. "Is this normal? You're not changing again, are you?" 

Peter curls further into himself. "Yeah, kind of."

"Shee-it, Peter, what should-"

"-I mean it's normal for it to hurt sometimes afterwards...I'm not changing again." It's hard to talk right now, but Peter manages. 

"So where does it hurt the most?" Roman isn't the greatest at these sort of situations, but he sure as Hell tries when it comes to Peter.

"Stomach," The gypsy still isn't entirely sure how he got to Roman's place, and he doesn't know whether to be grateful or pissed. He is sure, however, that his body feels like it's been in a car crash.

"Will you let me hold you?" It sounds so weird to say it out loud instead of just doing it, but Roman doesn't want to make any wrong moves.

Peter nods, and let's himself be pulled into Roman's arms. It feels like he's being wrapped in a powerful blanket of light. He rests his weary head on the welcoming chest, letting his sore body relax. A hand starts to carefully rub against his abdomen in soothing circles. Peter secretly thinks this must be how a girl feels when she's on her period and being taken care of by her boyfriend. He's oddly okay with that, albeit a little embarrassed. He feels like shee-it.

After awhile of laying there, they can hear the sound of pots banging in the distance. No doubt the cooks are starting to prepare breakfast. It's always a feast, but Roman wants to make sure they set a place for Peter at the table. He doesn't have to get up, though, because pretty soon there's a knock on the door and it opens.

"Roman, what on earth is this?" Olivia demands. She's not pleased to see her son and that gypsy trash both shirtless and wrapped around each other in the morning light.

Roman gives her one of his infamous looks like a satisfied cat that just threw up on your favorite shirt and doesn't give a shit. "We had raging, hot sex last night..." 

But his mother cuts him off with a sharp glare, her voice cutting through the warm sunshine like ice, "I'll tell them to set an extra place for your dog." The door slams so hard a picture falls off the wall. 

If her son was to be gay so be it, but why does he have to be with that mongrel? 

Peter is too tired to care about the insults. A soft smile graces his features as he mutters, "Raging, hot sex..." 

"Later," Roman places a kiss on the werewolf's damp forehead. "I don't think you're up for it right now."

In the kitchen Shelley smiles as her mother storms around. She was sure that Roman would eventually get with Peter, and judging by the way Olivia is cursing under her breath it sounds like they have. Shelley is already seated when the two boys begin to descend the stairs. She puts her dog-eared copy of Emily Dickinson poems away- she won't be needing it this morning. This is going to be the most interesting breakfast the Godfrey Household has seen in years.

**Author's Note:**

> This didn't turn out the way I planned at all, but hopefully it made someone smile. I thank each of you reading this for being a part of the Hemlock Grove fandom, and I hope that all of you writers out there continue to help it live on. Even if you don't write, you should try. You might surprise yourself.


End file.
